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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739805">The Perfect Coffee</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DouglasAmongUs/pseuds/DouglasAmongUs'>DouglasAmongUs</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supergirl (TV 2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops &amp; Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Coffee Shops, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romance, Strangers to Lovers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:42:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,785</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26739805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DouglasAmongUs/pseuds/DouglasAmongUs</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Argo Coffee has been a staple of National City for more than 30 years. Now managed by sisters Alex and Kara Danvers, the coffeeshop may be in trouble with the looming threat of a Luthor takeover of downtown. While the siblings fight the power, and brew the beans better than anyone else, Kara is somewhat distracted by the woman at the corner table who comes in everyday. Who is the tall dark woman that has her eye, and her secret recipe for cocoa, and how will true love conquer corporate takeover?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor, Samantha "Sam" Arias/Alex Danvers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>422</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Supercorp Big Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Perfect Coffee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741422">The Perfect Coffee (Art)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_echoes/pseuds/midnight_echoes">midnight_echoes</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>My contribution to the Supercorp Big Bang 2020 Collection!<br/>Please enjoy and check out the art by S.K. Kramer<br/>https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCBB2020/works/26741422</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There's a lot of character in a coffee order.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Light. Dark. Bitter. Sweet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a world that, every day, is learning more and more all the different flavors people come in, it's kind of nice that the sheer number of combinations in a simple coffeehouse drink can also reflect that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mocha.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Latte.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Macciato.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Such colorful titles we can attach to ourselves. Nora Ephron was right, there is so much identity you can choose for yourself just by stepping up to the counter. Half-caff. Non-fat. Whipped!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And, naturally, there is a lot you could tell about a person by what they ordered. Baristas are right up there with bartenders and criminal profilers as far as being able to read people on sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are the business junkies for whom espresso itself is inadequate. If they could have caffeine on an IV drip, they'd probably order it. Barring that, they get by with qualifiers such as double, triple, and quintuple. (Yes, someone had ordered that before. No, they did not serve it to them, but, instead, gave them a triple and said it was a quintuple.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are the yoga moms and high school teens who have to have their frappes and their mixers and pretty much anything ending in -ccino, because life is hard and we all need a little brightness, (read: sugar), so, screw cheat days!, put sprinkles on that!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There are the, uh, well, hipsters, who can't enjoy a cup unless it was hand-farmed by a small, one-eyed grandfather from a rice paddy owned by the same family for 14 generations and transported by burro no less than 22 miles to market, despite the fact that no coffee is harvested that way. But they are faithful customers, so, when the monthly order came in, you always made sure there was some "exotic" blend you can introduce them to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, there's the tea brigade, who, naturally, see themselves as far superior to the piping hot, bean juice masses, but, nevertheless, can be as particular, (read: anal), about their drinks as anyone else. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes, that is a rooibos on brew today. What's that? Soy milk? Ooh, we're being adventurous, aren't we?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The regular orders are easy to spot. Like a dog who manages to match their owner just so. (Or is it the other way around?) The tall, non-fat, double goes with captain briefcase who was just a little too curt with their order. The double whipped cappuccino pairs with the college student who was already set-up for a long, cram session. And the white chocolate frappe with a caramel drizzle definitely belongs to the grungy, goth girl with the nose stud. You go, punk princess, fight the power.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The really interesting ones, though, are the change-ups, the versatiles, who like to sample the menu. They wear their orders like mood rings. A watchful barista can always tell how their day is going just by what they prefer in their cup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Like the tall, dark currently occupying the table in the corner. And, no, that wasn't her drink du jour. She had started coming regularly nearly two months ago, at first every other day or so, then every day but only for a quick to-go order, then she started taking her coffee in a mug, to stay. Gradually, her stays grew longer, and, soon, she was parking herself at a table by the window for hours, laptop open, working quietly, and nursing her daily order.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Usually, it was a tall, straight black with a little cream and sugar. Serious, all-business. A good sign she was in for a few hours of intense work, sporting a look on her face that said she was not to be disturbed but, please, keep the refills coming. Some days it was a latte. More relaxed and bright. Her hair in a casual ponytail rather than the high bun. Some days it was an espresso. Those days made tall black look like a vacation. On occasion, a cappuccino might be requested. The woman with the long, dark hair would ease back in her chair, the mug cradled between her hands. Collected, peaceful. One day, she asked for a tea, an Irish breakfast blend they happened to be featuring. That was a contemplative day. The woman got very little work done but let her hair down, the dark waves cascading over her shoulders as she stared out the window at the passing crowds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nearly had a heart attack at the sight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't that the blonde barista was obsessed. No, of course not. She was just very good at her job, and part of being good at your job, in a coffee shop, was knowing what your regulars wanted before they even asked. And she had spent enough time watching the dark-haired woman to have a pretty good idea. Enough to know that what Kara really wanted was a drink of tall, dark, and-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kara!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The voice of a familiar, and very bossy, redhead cut through her reverie. The blonde shook her head as if to grind the thoughts away, but, as with most grinding, that only succeeded in releasing the flavor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you’re done ogling the customers, we’ve got orders,” Alex followed up. Kara could see the edged side-eye her sister was giving out of the corner of her vision and tried desperately to ignore it while she tackled the incoming stream of drink requests.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t… ogling,” she objected a minute later, somewhat sheepishly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-huh,” Alex replied flatly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wasn’t,” Kara insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex turned bodily to her, hand on her hip in a gesture that, Kara would never tell Alex this, perfectly imitated one their mother had, which stated simply and straight-forwardly, “Oh, I can’t wait to hear this excuse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara sputtered, “I was… just…” She flailed a hand explanatorily, which explained absolutely nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Admiring the scenery?” Another voice cut in, followed by another body, specifically that of Nia, their other barista, as she made the, often ill-advised, decision to step between the sisters when they were having a go at it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Kara replied with a quick and grateful gesture to her coworker. “Admiring the- Nia, you’re not helping!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The younger woman held up her hands in faux defense, the widest of grins on her face, before she passed a drink across the bar to a waiting customer. She spun back, far too invested in the conversation to pretend she wasn’t letting it distract her from her work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s she drinking today?” Nia asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Soy latte,” Kara answered immediately, then she caught the look Alex gave and blushed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh, I guess she’s in a good mood,” replied the younger barista. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was not the first time they’d had this conversation, each woman quickly finding their role in the ongoing soap opera that was the dark-haired woman at the table by the window. Kara played the lovestruck, pining admirer. Nia was the faithful cheerleader. And Alex was the disapproving antagonist who just wanted them to get back to working the queue.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but she asked for a double shot, so I figured she must be on a deadline,” continued the blonde, only to catch eyes, yet again, with the redhead and look away in shame. Still, she sidled up to her coworker/co-conspirator. “I did add a dash of cinnamon, though, without telling her, just for that little pick-me-up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kara!” Alex admonished. The blonde looked at her sister with a questioning look. Alex only stared back as if she did not have to explain that you shouldn’t change a customer’s order without their knowledge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Kara replied to this. “It’s working! She smiles every time she takes a sip.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara pointed. How they weren’t attracting everyone’s attention was anyone’s guess; unless you account for the fact that, up to a certain point, most customers tend to ignore service workers. Nia eagerly followed her gaze. Even Alex, huffing her disapproval all the while, couldn’t help but look as well. They watched the dark-haired woman at the table, working diligently on her laptop. After a minute of quick typing, she reached for her mug, brought it to her mouth, and took a sip. Then she paused. She licked her lips, and, for the briefest moment, there was a slight curl to her lips, before she took another sip and set the mug back down, turning back to her work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See?” Kara added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn, you are good,” Nia agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex looked impressed for all of a second before she happened to glance to the side, then quickly tapped both of her employees on the shoulder and pointed to the registers, where a line of customers was forming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Argo Coffee had been proudly brewing in this part of National City for nearly 40 years. Besides being a staple of the neighborhood, it had a long history as a tentpole of the community. Whether it was fundraising, its decades-long policy of serving a free bakery item to every homeless person who came in, or its spot as ground zero every year at Pride, everyone in this particular section of the city knew, and loved, Argo Coffee. The original owners having long since retired, the function of the cafe had been passed to the sisters, Alex and Kara, several years ago, and, together, they had helped maintain Argo’s place in the greater ecosystem of National City. Nevertheless, the city was changing. The ever-encroaching specter of development and gentrification was a growing threat. Still, Argo persisted, ready to serve to whomever ordered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But they could probably stand to be a little less distracted during a rush.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think you might learn her name today?” Nia asked Kara as they quickly made work of the incoming orders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde turned a shade of crimson.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh for crying out loud,” Alex added in a harsh whisper, unable to either be uninvolved in this conversation or get her employees to focus despite her best efforts. “It’s bad enough you have to stare at her every hour she’s here. You could at least do something about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am!” Kara fired back to the totally incredulous looks of her coworkers. “I mean, I will.” This didn’t seem to convince them any further. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde turned with a huff and applied whipped cream to a cappuccino in such a way that she hoped communicated how unsupportive she felt right now. Mostly, it just looked lopsided, but the customer didn’t seem to notice. Kara handed the drink over and turned back to Nia holding a carafe out to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” the young woman said. “Go see about refills.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stared at it. She was almost certain Nia herself had done a round of the cafe not twenty minutes ago, right before the rush came in. She looked quizzically at her coworker, who proceeded to force the carafe into her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go. See. About. REFILLS,” Nia repeated, hissing the last bit between her teeth and motioning with her eyes in a particular direction of the shop, towards a table by the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara finally seemed to get it. She took the carafe and began making the rounds, notably avoiding the table in question, partially to not seem obvious, making a beeline towards it, but mostly to build up her courage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took her a while. Even with Nia making gestures at her that Alex had to swat down when they got just a little too showy. Finally, the blonde managed to find her way towards the table by the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Freshen you up?” She asked and nearly kicked herself because, in her head, that sounded way more forward. In a panic, she quickly added, “Freshen your drink up?” Nailed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, thank you,” the dark-haired woman replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of her voice, soft yet sultry, caught Kara so off-guard, she nearly forgot what she was there to do. Finally, she noticed the mug the woman held up to her. She quickly refilled it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks again,” the woman replied before turning back to her screen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara’s mouth opened then closed. In her time building up the courage to approach the table, she hadn’t bothered to figure out what she was going to say beyond the obvious. Bereft of viable thoughts to that end, she turned back to the counter, only to see Nia flailing wildly at her. She turned back to the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Need anything else?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman looked back up. Green eyes. She had green eyes. Kara wondered if she had noticed that before, whenever the woman ordered. She certainly noticed it now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’m good, thank you,” the woman replied, leaving Kara, once more, without a follow-up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To her credit, she didn’t turn away again. Only because she didn’t have to guess at her coworkers’ reaction if she did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I always see you come in,” the blonde tried, conversationally. “You, uh, really seem to get a lot of work done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The woman smiled up at her politely. “You have good wifi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But better coffee,” Kara replied, particularly impressed with herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t argue with that,” the woman said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara, once more, flailed for the dialogue. Something about the way the woman’s hair and her eyes and her smile all worked together to render her even more enamored, which wasn’t helping her appear in any way like a composed, rational person right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m Kara,” she finally tried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know,” the woman said. She pointed. Kara followed her finger to the name tag pinned on her own apron.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” the blonde said, fully blushing now, and sweating a little, too. “Well, if you need anything, you, uh, know where I’ll be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll keep that in mind,” the woman replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with the world’s most awkward laugh, Kara spun on her heels and marched back to the counter. Alex and Nia, thankfully, said nothing as she set the carafe back on the counter, then quickly made her way to the stockroom to bang her head against some boxes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few hours later, the regrettable episode most certainly not forgotten though neither her sister or friend had brought it up, the blonde looked up to see a familiar face at the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I get a tall, double shot to go?” She asked, a messenger bag secure over her shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex rang up the order while Nia set to making it, coincidentally, (or not), leaving Kara alone at the counter with the dark-haired woman. The blonde, however, had not learned how to talk to her in the intervening time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” the woman finally said. “I wanted to apologize.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara looked back at her, confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It occurred to me that you may have been trying to start a conversation earlier,” she continued with a motion back to her table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, that,” Kara tried with a forced laugh to seem nonchalant. Failing immediately. “I mean, you know…” she tried and quickly gave up. “Yeah, that was totally what I was trying to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the woman laughed. There was a lilt to it, and Kara decided, that very second, she would do anything in her power to get the woman to laugh again. At her, with her, it didn’t really matter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I must admit to not having the best social skills,” the woman added. “I didn’t want to seem rude. I can just get in my head, sometimes, and-“ Then she stopped. It was a strangely humanizing gesture, as if she was mirroring the blonde’s only conversational bumbling. “Anyways, I really like this place, and you all do have wonderful coffee.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara felt Nia place the to-go order in her hand, though the blonde’s blue eyes never let the green ones she wanted to fall into.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And pretty good wifi,” Kara replied smoothly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the woman laughed again. The blonde resisted the urge to punch the air. Instead, she handed the drink over. The woman took it with a smile. She held it for a moment, turned, then stopped, and finally turned back to the blonde.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stared back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Lena,” she repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The barista knew she was sporting the stupidest grin in the world. She didn’t care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kara,” she replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know,” Lena said with another laugh. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, Kara,” she added before turning to the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See you tomorrow!” Kara replied, entirely too exuberant, but, again, she did not care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She waited until Lena was out of the cafe before she punched the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“YES!”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tall dark, now known, appropriately, as Lena, came back the next day. And the next. Kara wasn’t exactly complaining. However, although they had now, officially, and formally, been introduced, that didn’t mean the blonde was making any further headway, despite her coworkers’ insistence. Well, Nia’s insistence, anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, there were smiles now from the regular customer, and they certainly seemed sincere. To Kara, at least. Sure, she still stared at the woman far too much, but she was going to do something about that. Soon. Really. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She means it.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know you can just talk to her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara didn’t bother to glance at her sister. She knew the eyeball was there signifying the redhead’s continual disapproval at the topic in question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” Nia went on. “Like how people talk to other people. In coffeeshops. Literally all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know!” Kara insisted.”I’m gonna.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even Alex, only half-listening out of principal, gave her a look that said she didn’t buy that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean it!” The blonde added. “It’s just, you know…” She trailed off then gestured widely towards the table by the window. “She’s really busy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nia rolled her eyes this time. “If she wanted to get some work done, she’d be in a workspace. People come to coffeeshops for the atmosphere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“People come to coffeeshops for the coffee,” Alex interjected and dropped a bag of grounds into Nia’s hands. “You know, like the kind we’re supposed to be selling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara and Nia shared an eye roll but got back to work. After a minute, but not enough time to fool Alex, who immediately groaned when the conversation continued, Nia turned to Kara and asked, “What’s her drink today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Simple espresso,” the blonde woman answered without a moment’s hesitation. Her lips split into a sly grin. “But I may have thrown a little </span>
  <em>
    <span>con panna</span>
  </em>
  <span> in there as a treat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kara!” Came Alex’s objection.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Her sister replied defensively. “She’s a regular, and she tips very well.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She really does,” Nia agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just a little whipped topping,” Kara added, flush with confidence thanks to her back-up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh-huh,” Alex deadpanned. “And certainly not an excuse to fantasize every time she wipes it off her lips.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara’s face turned a shade of red that could only be seen as scandalous. “No,” she squeaked and then turned to find literally anything else to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a decent waiting period, wherein her sister and coworker thankfully did not bring up the topic of the dark-haired woman so that Kara’s complexion could return to a shade less aflame, the blonde did manage to make her way over the table by the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” she said. As openers go, nothing creative, but it seemed like it might work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, yourself,” Lena replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’s the wifi?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As good as the coffee,” the woman chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You always seem so focused,” Kara continued, flush with confidence, now, at her conversational prowess. “I can’t help but wonder what you’re working on.” She glanced at the laptop screen, only for Lena to suddenly grab it in a panic. “Oh, sorry!” Kara immediately replied. “I was just kidding!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Kara, you’re fine,” Lena said after a moment wherein she seemed to catch her breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, it’s okay,” the blonde insisted. “That was really rude of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It really wasn’t,” Lena added with a sigh. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. She motioned generally to the computer. “Most of the stuff I deal with is proprietary. NDAs, that sort of thing, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Lena said again. “I didn’t mean to panic like that.” She looked up at the blonde, scandalized now for much less fun reasons. She laughed. The soft lilt of it distracted Kara from her own panic. Kara nodded, then laughed herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t mean to spy on you,” the blonde said. Well, it wasn’t entirely a lie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay,” said Lena. “I seriously doubt you’re involved in any kind of corporate espionage.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Kara shot back with a conspiratorial winkle of an eyebrow. “Lots of other shops are after our cocoa recipe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’m serious,” Kara replied, and she was. “Lots of other shops are after our cocoa recipe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the dark-haired woman laughed again, much to the blonde’s delight. “That good, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Life-changing.” Kara let herself exult, just the tiniest bit. They had gotten off to a rocky start, but, somehow, she had managed to not make a total mess of this like she had feared. She motioned to the computer again. “So, if it’s not too suspicious for me to ask, what sort of work do you do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena’s mouth opened for a moment, her face suddenly very different than before. She motioned to the screen nonchalantly, “Oh, just business.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stared. “Business?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, business,” Lena repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there a specific kind of business?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there was that look again, some kind of mix of shame and fear and something else the blonde couldn’t place in the moment. “Lots of different kinds,” the dark-haired woman answered. She waved dismissively at the screen again. “It’s not really that important.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t be silly!” Kara insisted, fully in flirt-mode now and relishing it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s nothing, really,” Lena went on. “I’m sure you wouldn’t be interested.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I’m a barista?” Kara joked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no, that’s not…” Lena stammered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?” The blonde raised an eyebrow. Tall dark looked panicked again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to imply-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, wait, no-“ Kara suddenly got the point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You must think I am so arrogant-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena, I was joking!” The blonde cut in quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Green eyes stared back at her. Kara had been a little loud and a little forceful with her hand-held out towards Lena defensively, but she could see they were on their way to another conversational hiccup. And they had been doing so well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Lena finally said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kara said. As rejoinders go, it wasn’t too creative, but it seemed to calm the woman down. “Sorry,” the barista added. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked back at her computer. She shook her head. “It really is boring,” she added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll bet,” Kara replied, and then mentally facepalmed, right before she physically facepalmed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>God, woman, why was this so hard?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I mean-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand, Kara,” the dark-haired woman said with another light chuckle. “Honestly,” she continued, as desperate, it seemed, as the blonde, to find any better avenue for their conversation. “I would imagine what you do is far more interesting.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Kara was blushing again but decided she could feel good about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Lena went on. “I mean, you must meet a lot of interesting people.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I do,” Kara said and wondered, a moment too late, if the way her gaze lingered on the dark-haired, green-eyed woman was a little too obvious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long have you been a barista?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara looked off in thought for a moment. “Officially? About 10 years.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there an unofficial aspect to the coffee business I’m not aware of?” Lena asked with an eyebrow raise of her own. And a smile. “Some kind of underground barista ring?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It took Kara a moment to catch that. When she did, she faked a cough and a serious look. “Oh, well, I couldn’t say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course, the first rule of Frappe Club is you don’t talk about Frappe Club.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Kara’s turn to laugh. She practically guffawed, unable to stop the embarrassing snort that followed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What I mean is,” she went on, clearing her throat quickly. “I’ve been an on-the-books, paid employee for about 10 years, but I’ve been </span>
  <em>
    <span>working</span>
  </em>
  <span> here a lot longer than that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked confused at this. “I didn’t think Argo Coffee was the kind to go for child labor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Kara said before it hit her. “Oh, no, no, I just mean I…” She laughed again and swung her arms to either side, taking in the shop. “My mother owns this place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or used to, I guess,” the blonde added. “Technically, still does, but mostly it’s just me and Alex running things now.” She motioned to the redhead behind the counter, only to panic a moment later when she realized what she was doing. Thankfully, Alex happened to not be looking this way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Lena repeated. “Alex is your…?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sister.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Lena added again before shaking her head as if to dislodge the rest of her vocabulary. “I didn’t realize. I guess I never noticed the resemblance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you wouldn’t,” Kara replied warmly. “The Danvers adopted me when I was 11.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Lena said yet again. The dark-haired woman seemed ready to facepalm herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They were friends with my parents,” Kara went on, undeterred. “I hung out here a lot, and, well, when they passed away, it was like coming home, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena’s mouth only hung open. Kara shrugged and spread her arms wide again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And now you know my entire life’s story,” she said with a grin. “Your turn,” she added. Her face immediately turned pale in horror at the look the dark-haired woman gave her in response. “Oh, no, I didn’t mean-!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena held up a hand to stop her. “It’s all right,” she said in understanding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Kara said with a groan. “I’ve been told I’m prone to word vomit. Seriously, if conversations were a roller coaster, I’d be the kid puking out their funnel cake.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde was ready to actually throw up at this point. Blessedly, though, the woman at the table could only laugh that sweet, lilting laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have nothing to be ashamed of, I promise,” she said. “It’s actually quite charming.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara smiled. Big.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In considering the current state of the situation, taking in all past and possible future factors, she then made the wise decision to not risk further embarrassment. At least for now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” she said after a long pause. “I’ll let you get back to ‘work.'” She wondered, immediately, if the air quotes were a bad move, but Lena chuckled again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hope I didn’t distract you too much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This was quite an enjoyable diversion, actually.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Kara said, beaming even bigger. “Well, if you need me, you know where to find me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll keep that in mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara back-stepped towards the counter, watching the woman turn back to her laptop, lingering just a bit to see her take a sip of her espresso, her tongue licking a bit of whipped cream from her lip. The blonde turned triumphantly back to the bar and her sister’s immediate and obvious judgmental glare, but the barista was not about to let her joy be undercut. Not today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She said I’m charming!” she squealed and high-fived Nia before heading to the stockroom to do a happy dance.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Espresso was replaced by cappuccino, then macchiato, before returning to basic black. Kara watched the dark-haired woman each day, noting the order and wondering what sort of work it was that called for so many different varieties of caffeine. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One day, americano, taken with a smile as Lena set herself up in her usual spot, was marked by the appearance of another, much more familiar, face in the cafe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clark!” The blonde said as the recognizable broad shoulders of her cousin stepped through the door. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Kara,” came the reply and the farm-raised smile. The tall man adjusted his glass, catching the tip of that spit curl that always managed to lay so nicely on his brow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kent,” Alex called, stepping out from the back room. “Long time, no see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clark waved in reply as another figure stepped through the door after, jangling the quaint little bell that hung over the eave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that Olsen with you?” The redhead asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The one and only,” came the response from the, somehow, equally and broad-shouldered Black man stepping into the cafe, camera slung round his neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s so nice to see you two,” Kara cooed happily. “You don’t come by enough, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. I know,” Kent replied apologetically. “Ever since they put a shop in the lobby of our building, it’s just so much easier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At that, a certain redhead store manager dropped a sizable box of cups onto the counter. If the tone and intent of said action could in any way be misread, the glare she sported was unmistakable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You going corporate on us, Kent?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Kansas man, built like he could sling hay bales with ease, and likely had, wilted slightly under the shorter, yet no less daunting, woman’s gaze. Clark grunted awkwardly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing against ya’ll,” he tried. “It’s just… you know… convenience.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex continued to glare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Blame Lois,” Clark finally added. “She’s addicted to the unicorn frappe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In response, Alex produced a large knife from behind the counter and stabbed it into the box, never breaking eye contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What can I get you?” Kara asked, at last, rescuing her cousin from Alex’s wrath, momentarily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing, actually-“ Clark started, only to be interrupted by his accomplice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Speak for yourself, man,” James cut in, turning to Kara. “Double shot, you know how I like it, and, ooh, I see a cheese danish that I’m hoping has my name on it,” he added with a quick eye to the pastry cabinet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What a coincidence!” Kara said with a laugh as she began to ring up the order. “I think it does.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“James, we’re working,” Clark objected, half-heartedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Call it research,” the photographer replied as he gladly took the danish Nia passed over. “By the way, I am totally telling your wife how you just threw her under the bus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clark’s arms shot up in defeat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does bring you two around?” Kara asked as she began mixing James’ drink.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re actually doing a story on the neighborhood,” came the Black man’s reply. He nudged his partner.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Clark said, adjusting his glasses again and seeming to regain his confidence. “There’s talk again of developing this part of the city.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A worried look was exchanged between the baristas. Alex was quick to shake this off with a confident shrug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They have that talk every 6 months,” the redhead said. “Condos and open-air malls and all that crap. It’s never gonna happen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her coworkers seemed to take this as gospel, calming from their shock. Clark could only waggled his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it’s looking fairly serious,” the reporter said. “Word on the street is that L-Corp may be behind the project.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Luthor?” Alex scoffed. “Those high-toned, Metropolis snobs couldn’t make it work in Gotham, no way do they have a chance in National City.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ve been buying up a lot of capital,” Clark went on. “Rumor has it, they may have some serious investors lined up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The mood behind the counter dropped once more. The redhead sighed deeply. She shook her head and grabbed the box again, ripping the tape this time with her bare hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You betray us for corpo-caffeine and you bring bad news?” She asked. “Gee, Kansas, how we do love when you visit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well,” Clark added with a sly grin. “I- that is, we…” He motioned to James. “Might be able to help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?” Kara asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I may have convinced my boss that the paper could take a more editorial approach to the story,” the former farm boy replied, his smile growing. “We’re here to do a profile about the neighborhood.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” The blonde asked excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clark nodded. “I figure the populace should be aware of what they’re giving up, if the Luthors are serious about turning this place into some galleria.” He motioned towards the cafe. “And I thought, what better place to start than Argo?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex, no longer remotely peeved, looked between the two men. “You’re here to do a story?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They nodded. She motioned to James.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With pictures, I’m assuming?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In color and everything,” James replied, raising his camera.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The redhead quickly swept the box off the counter. “All is forgiven,” she said, before crossing around front and motioning, quickly towards the photographer. “Okay, we’ll start with the front. See if you can get the menu in the shot. I want them to see our daily specials.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, Alex,” Clark added, somewhat annoyed, now, himself at the woman giving orders to his photograph. “The story’s on the whole neighborhood. This isn’t an advertisement for the cafe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, keep telling yourself that,” the woman replied, as she spun James about by the shoulders. “Here. Sidelong, showcasing our selection of fresh, baked goods and our friendly and hard-working waitstaff.” She looked up at her coworkers. “Hard-working,” she repeated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yes,” Kara replied, half-worry, half-sarcasm. “Working. So much working.” She grabbed a towel and made a show of wiping down the completely clean counter with an obvious thumbs up to the camera. Nia, meanwhile, was rapid-posing next to the cappuccino machine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make sure to get my good side, Olsen,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Photographer turned to journalist. Clark could only shrug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just take the pictures,” he said before Alex grabbed him and dragged towards the far wall of the cafe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make sure to take note of our cork-board, showcasing the numerous community-outreach programs Argo is involved with, especially for the LGBTQIA+ community,” the redhead said, adding seamlessly, “Founded in 1981, Argo Coffee has been proudly serving downtown National City for nearly 40 years-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alex, I know all this,” Clark replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, but you need quotes,” the woman replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’ll find I’m capable of researching and writing my own article.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure you are,” the redhead added incredulously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you know what you should do,” Nia added, still posing. “Interview some of our regulars.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Her boss cheered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For the last time, Alex,” Clark replied. “This isn’t just about Argo.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not! It’s about the community,” the redhead agreed. “And who better to help you understand the community than those who live and work here. The same ones we serve on a daily basis.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The reporter’s mouth opened to disagree, then snapped shut. “That would actually probably be a good idea,” he added slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooh!” Kara said. “I have the perfect one.” She skipped from behind the counter towards a particular table next to a particular window, only to find a particular, and much adored, occupant notably absent. The blonde’s chin quivered in confusion. She could have sworn the dark-haired customer had been there when Clark walked in. Perhaps she had stepped out in the excitement. It made sense. Still the blonde barista couldn’t quell the slightest twinge at the fact that she hadn’t said goodbye before leaving.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cafe mocha.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She hadn’t ordered one. Point of fact, today had been a double shot request. The blonde barista behind the bar, however, had called an audible and decided tall dark could use a little pick-me-up that wasn’t in the form of extra caffeine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Lena said with a smile and slight nod to Kara. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She seemed engrossed in her work, so the blonde didn’t bother trying to start conversation but did linger, just long enough, to see the dark-haired woman take a sip, even as she stared at her laptop. She set the cup down and licked the whipped cream off her lips. It was probably in that moment she figured it out. Lena’s head turned towards her drink. She glanced up at the blonde, then back at her drink, then back at the blonde.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not what I ordered,” she said, confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I know,” Kara replied with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked back at the drink. Once more at the blonde.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You looked like you could use a treat,” was all she said. Smile still beaming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena couldn’t help but lick her lips again. Kara couldn’t help but stare as she did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t normally go for chocolate sauce with my coffee,” Lena said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara’s smile grew. “All the more reason!” She exclaimed. Her brow creased slightly. The smile moderately dimmed. “You seemed stressed,” she added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked surprised, almost put off, for a moment, then she merely sighed. “That obvious?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You always order a double shot when you know you’ve got a busy day ahead of you,” said Kara. Her brow creased again. “I figured your job must be bugging you. Especially when you had to run out here the other day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That panicked look suddenly returned to the dark-haired woman’s face. She schooled it quickly and looked away. “You noticed that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nodded. “You usually say goodbye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I didn’t-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s okay!” The blonde insisted. “I figured you must have gotten a call or something work-related.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You could say that,” Lena replied with another deep, deep sigh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just too bad you couldn’t meet Clark.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, your reporter friend?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cousin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clark’s my cousin.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena had to raise an eyebrow. Both in fact. “Clark Kent’s your cousin?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kara replied quickly then shook her head in surprise. “You know him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena’s mouth opened silently for a moment. “I’m… familiar with some of his work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, wow, you really should have met him then!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t…” the dark-haired woman stammered. “I don’t do press.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Kara said, understandingly, though she only thought she half understood. “Business, right?” She said with a chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lena answered, a slight, sardonic chuckle of her own. “Something like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How is work?” Kara asked, leaning in and adding in a whisper, “If it’s not suspicious of me to inquire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena laughed again, less bitterly this time. She glanced at her computer. “Oh, yeah, work. Work, work, work. Work… Work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow,” Kara laughed. “You just said the same word six different ways and none of them were good!” She glanced down at the table and gently pushed the mug closer to the woman. “You really do need this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That, Kara was imminently proud to say, actually got a genuine smile. Lena picked up the mug and took a serious sip this time. The cream was once again licked off her lips. Kara once again let her gaze linger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Work is…” the dark-haired woman started. She let the rest go unsaid with a shrug and a deep roll of her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can see that,” Kara laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s just say I’m very thankful for this place,” Lena went on with a grateful look between the cup and the barista who had brought it. “You make working lunches that much more tolerable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde nodded happily before glancing at the table, noting the laptop, the notebook, the coffee, and the total lack of any food. “Uh, if this is a working lunch. I think you’re missing the lunch part. Ooh! You should try our sandwiches! We’ve got this croissant BLT that you will looove.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena’s head popped up in confusion, momentarily caught by the little dance Kara put on at the prospect of bacon, lettuce, and tomato. She laughed. It was terribly adorable. “Oh, no, I’m good,” she said before reaching down and pulling out and waving a plastic cup that had been tucked in the side of her bag. The glass was filled with a dense, green liquid and sported a logo Kara immediately recognized.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde snatched the cup out of the brunette’s hand immediately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“NOOOOOOO!” Kara screamed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena was immediately, and understandably, taken aback by the outburst. “What?” she replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex popped up from the back, drawn by the very obvious noise her sister had just made. “Kara? What the hell is going on?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In answer, the blonde held up the cup and screamed, “SMOOTHIE PALACE!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no!” the redhead said, immediately, joining her. “You get that nonsense out of my store!” Alex added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena could only sit back in continued confusion at their, as yet, completely unexplained outrage. Nia turned to them both, a moment before engaged in changing out the trash cans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold on, you two,” she said, bringing some much needed calm to the situation, Lena thought. The young woman motioned to the cup, still held aloft, accusatorially, in the blonde’s hand. “What flavor is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara lowered the cup to read the printed label stuck on the side of the drink. Her brow furrowed with wrath. She looked up and practically growled between gritted teeth, “Kale Fusion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh hell no!” Nia answered. She grabbed the trash bin and lifted it over her head as she dashed towards them. “POISON!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To Lena’s utter astonishment, Kara proceeded to touchdown slam her smoothie into the trash, to both of her coworkers’ fist-raised exultation. Nia shoved the trash bin back in place with a look that resembled a bomb disposal specialist after a successful mission. The dark-haired woman sputtered and stared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry, no outside food or drink,” Alex added calmly, striding towards the woman’s table once the scene had been played out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked around and finally pointed to the patio. “There’s a guy with Big Belly Burger right there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s different,” the redhead barista replied as if that was an explanation. She pointed to the trash. “That stuff’s diarrhea juice, and we will not tolerate it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena was no less disturbed but seemed totally outnumbered. She looked up at the blonde. “I paid money for that, Kara.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” Nia said as she suddenly appeared and set a plate down, a croissant BLT sitting on it. “You will eat that,” the young woman insisted. “And you will feel good about yourself!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um, thank you?” Lena replied as she tried to take in everything that had just happened in the last 30 seconds. Failing utterly in the process.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enjoy,” Kara beamed. “No charge,” she said, before turning and bustling off to the counter, still smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>To her credit, she had been right about the sandwich.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Double macchiato.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the disposal of her lunch, the dark-haired woman, thankfully, did not stop coming. Though she did, notably, never risk a smoothie inside the shop again. Her regular visits remained unchanged, but the conversations between her and a certain blonde barista also became a daily thing, much to Kara’s delight. However, by the very fact that she was, in a way, getting exactly what she wanted, it was not long before doubt began to creep in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think she’s… you know?” Kara finally asked one morning, out of the blue, before her favorite customer had arrived.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what?” Alex asked. In truth, the rest of the question was obvious, to the redhead more than most, and not just for the fact that she could read Kara like a book. Still, she was her sister, and, per long-established, sibling guidelines, she felt the need to needle the blonde just a bit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know?” Kara insisted, insistent in her refusal to fill in the blank.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex stared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know!” Kara repeated. She glanced around, turned back to her sister, and shrugged. She shrugged in a way that very much asked the question: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Is she into ladies?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For crying out loud, Kara,” the redhead groaned. “You’re talking to a lesbian. Just out with it, literally.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara sighed and collected herself. “Do you think she’s…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Down to clown?” Nia asked from the cappuccino machine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not helping!” Kara fired back, annoyed. She blew out a breath, her brow knitting into that nearly childish knot of frustration. “I mean, I could be barking up the wrong tree.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I seriously doubt it,” Alex said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Kara asked, then immediately stopped, not wanting to leap headlong into hope, like she usually would. “I mean, what if she’s not. She could be straight for all I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex tapped her temple. “Trust the gay-dar.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still,” Kara went on in increasingly worried tones. “What if I’m not her type? What if she’s not into women?” The blonde suddenly clutched her chest in shock. “What if she’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>republican</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex finished up an order and set it on the counter for its corresponding customer before finally turning back to her sister, stewing in the hypothetical soup she would drown herself in. “I think, if nothing else, she’s probably okay with the lifestyle.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know?” Kara asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In reply, the redhead pointed at the bi flag pin on the blonde’s uniform. She pointed to the lesbian flag pin on her own. She pointed to the trans flag pin on Nia’s. Then she swept her arms in wide circles, taking in the entire cafe and all the various rainbow-adorned, LGBTQIA+ labeled paraphernalia that decorated the interior, customers included.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something tells me she knows what we’re about,” Alex finally added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In answer, and perfect timing, the bell chimed on the front door and all three baristas turned to see the lady in question stepping inside. Kara smiled. Then her face dropped when she saw Lena was not alone. Not only was she not alone, she was not alone with another woman. Another brunette. Tall dark had brought in an even taller dark. The blonde could only stare in utter despair, such that she almost didn’t notice when the object of her desire said-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning, Kara.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, uh, hi, Lena,” the blonde responded, staring, and trying not to stare at Lena’s companion, but also very much staring at Lena, such that she almost forgot about the other woman, then remembered, and went back to staring and trying not to stare. This loop would have likely continued until doomsday, with Kara unable to make any attempt to break it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Thankfully, Lena did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I get a coffee?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes!” Kara replied, shaking herself from the trance. “Yes, coffee, we serve coffee,” she reminded herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll take a macchiato,” tall dark before turning to her companion, reminding Kara, again, that she was there, and sending her cycling back to the staring/not staring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have the same,” the new woman added with a smile that was, probably, sincere, but Kara was wearing jealousy goggles and did not notice. She rang up the order nonetheless and tried to focus on Lena, which, per usual, was pretty easy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I get you anything else?” The barista asked, not meaning to, but very much meaning to, make the ‘you’ only stand for the woman in front of her. “How about a croissant?” She suggested and motioned to the bakery counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena considered the selection for a moment, glancing at the blonde and her expectant look once or twice as she did. “Sure, why not?” She added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara rang that up with glee. Glee that soured when the object of her desire, once more, turned to her companion. The taller brunette seemed to consider then waved the notion off. Kara finished up the order and watched Lena and her unnamed companion make their way to the table, Lena’s table, where the </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> woman took the seat across from the dark-haired beauty. Kara tried not to be supremely jealous. At the same time, she felt a tad guilty that she hadn’t even bothered asking Lena about her new friend. It seemed the polite thing to do. But could she stand to hear the answer, she wondered?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, after weeks of progress, they were back to staring. Something her coworkers noted immediately. Though, it would have been hard to miss. They watched, alongside the blonde, as Lena and the woman both opened laptops and seemed to be getting to work, which somewhat alleviated Kara’s fears. Until her ears caught the gentle peels of a laugh she had already memorized, and she watched, in abject horror, as Lena laughed at some anecdote her companion relayed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, Nia made a stab at comfort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know that she’s… you know?” The young barista suggested.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kara sighed, without conviction. The woman was uncomfortably pretty, just like Lena. Plus, she was decked out in a pencil skirt and silk shirt that practically screamed “professional business goddess,” and, come on, how could Lena not go for that?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope they’re not together,” Alex piped in, to Kara’s surprise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” The blonde wondered as she looked to her sister, full of hope and promise, relieved that her beloved sibling might actually empathize with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Alex replied. “Because that woman Lena’s with is seriously gorgeous.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alex!” Kara groaned. “Can we focus on my problems, you lesbian nightmare?” She gestured towards the table the two woman were occupying as she spun on the redhead with annoyance. “And what happened to professionalism?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s different,” Alex retorted without hesitation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How?!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I’m actually going to ask her out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara’s chin dropped, but, before she could properly express either her disbelief or her contempt, her sister was already crossing the room to the table and the two women, where, to Kara’s astonishment, she quickly began chatting them both up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde barista could only stare, pretending to wipe down the bar at some attempt to appear like she was working, but really only continuing to pass the cloth over one, single, soon to be very shiny, area, the circle growing increasingly smaller and faster as she grew more frustrated and annoyed watching Alex so casually and effortlessly talk to her crush, but, especially, to her crush’s new companion, who seemed most engaged in what the redhead was saying. It was all Nia could do to snatch the towel from Kara’s grasp on a pass, before the blonde rubbed a hole in the veneer, only to watch the obsessed barista continue to rub her palm across the wood heedlessly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I think my sister forgot to mention,” she caught Alex saying to the other gorgeous brunette. “We’re running a two-for-one special on baked goods. Can I get you anything from behind the glass?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really? Sure.” The woman smiled and pointed out an item after a moment’s glance at the counter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Coming right up,” Alex replied before striding back to the bar with that grin of total confidence Kara was quite familiar with and equal parts envious and aggravated by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You liar!” The blonde whisper-yelled when her sister was back behind the bar. “We are not running a two-for-one special!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We are for pretty brunettes,” was Alex’s immediate answer as she grabbed and plated a danish. The redhead grabbed a napkin and a pen and began writing. When Kara leaned over her shoulder, she saw it was her phone number, which her sister then tucked underneath the pastry and was quickly striding back across the shop while Kara watched, jaw very much on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Enjoy,” Alex added with a smile and wink. As she strode back, she managed to glance over her shoulder just as the new woman lifted the pastry. The look on her face was unmistakable. She caught eyes with the redhead, smirked, then folded the napkin, and stuffed it into her purse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara’s jaw was no longer on the floor. It was through the floor, into the concrete, and digging a hole to China. The blonde sputtered and stammered, utterly flabbergasted, snapping her head between the scene she had just witnessed and her sister.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” She tried, tried harder, then, bereft of any cogent response, simply flailed. “WHAT?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That, little sister, is called </span>
  <em>
    <span>play</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and I got plenty of it,” Alex replied before high-fiving Nia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara spun back to the counter, only to realize she did not know what she was really angry about, except maybe Alex, once again, showing her up in the relationship department. So she went back to wiping down the counter, only to now realize she didn’t have her towel, so she just sulked, instead. She was halfway to a complete breakdown when she felt a tug on her apron. She turned to Alex, who stepped closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Her name is Sam,” her sister added quietly. “They’ve known each other since college. She’s helping Lena with a new project at work, and, in case it wasn’t obvious by the way she was looking at me, they are not together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara’s mouth went fishy for a moment, then her chin snapped shut. Alex tapped the wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shoot your shot, you bi bozo,” she added.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cafe crema.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tall dark returned. Without taller dark, though Kara was quite confident she would see her again. Her sister certainly would.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile, the specter of Luthor loomed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Argo had weathered storms before. Rival beaneries, the ever-present threat of corpo-coffee, and the general spirit was that this, like so many others, was an issue that would come and go with the neighborhood pillar very much intact. Yet, as the days and weeks progressed, it began to become difficult to hold up that positivity. Especially when L-Corp billboards started popping up everywhere announcing a new, redesigned downtown, right on top of the already existing one, and, while the appearance of said advertisements sparked an immediate backlash from the community, resolve began to slip as the David-and-Goliath nature of the conflict grew more and more apparent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde barista tried to put it out of her mind. Alex was working on things behind the scenes, community engagement, city council petitions, that sort of thing, so Kara focused on the coffee. It was what she was good at, and why Argo Coffee had lasted this long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All alone?” Kara asked as she placed the mug beside the dark-haired woman’s laptop. It wasn’t meant as a come-on, but, at the same time, what would the blonde have bene able to say that couldn’t, somehow, come off that way, at least to her eavesdropping coworkers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lena said after a moment to parse out the meaning. “Sam’s working from home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She, uh, seems nice.” It was the thing to say. Alex’s little show was quite convincing, but the barista couldn’t quite quell that chest-chilling fear that taller dark was more than just a coworker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your sister certainly seems to think so,” Lena observed with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you saw that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m pretty sure the entire world saw that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara had to roll her eyes. "Yeah, Alex has always been like that," Kara sighed, a little less humorously than she meant to. "She likes someone, and it's just like..." Kara's hands flailed. "Boom, you know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can imagine," Lena replied understandingly. "What about you?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the question hung in the air between them, so simply said, yet so unexpected, especially for the raven-haired woman. But there it was, and both women could obviously see it. Still, Kara was left wondering if it had been intentional, left wishing that it was, left overthinking, standing there, slightly slack-jawed in front of the woman, until a long enough period of time passed before she answered that the pendulous question felt all the more significant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, I suck," finally came the answer from the blonde. Kara was tempted to facepalm right there and then promptly go deposit herself in the trash.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Lena just smiled, no dismissive chuckle, just a smile. "I'm sure you don't," she said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, no, I do," Kara went on. Her mouth, apparently fed up with not saying things, had decided to perform a coup against her brain. "I see someone pretty and my brain just goes..." Her hands flailed again. "Boom, you know?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If the barista's inexpert inarticulateness diminished her in the dark-haired woman's mind, you couldn't tell. The smile never faded, only deepened. Lena's eyes fluttered as she did chuckle, not flippantly, but endearingly. Kara's heartbeat fluttered along with those beautiful, green eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, whenever you do build up the courage," Lena said. "I'm quite certain whoever is on the receiving end of your, uh, 'boom', will be very lucky."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Really?" Kara asked, her mouth once more too eager for common sense or patience.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes," Lena replied, after a moment, a pause, a deep breath, it seemed. "Apparently your cocoa recipe is highly sought-after."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Kara laughed. She snorted. The tension was broken, and she was quite thankful for it. If it had continued, she was sure her mouth would have taken the initiative to say things her brain was still holding back on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll let you get back to work," the barista added after coming down from her guffaws. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the thing to say, even though she would have gladly gone on talking the whole morning, the whole day, heedless of time or the responsibilities pulling on either of their times. Still, she lingered at the table and again when she stepped back behind the bar, gazing at the tall, dark woman, the subtle wave of that raven hair, the small movements of her face as she furrowed in concentration or worry, the quick glances those green eyes made in her direction, how the tiniest curl appeared on Lena's lips when she did, her every shape and form. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, Kara was obsessed, but how could she not be? It was like starring at art. Something might have caught your gaze, at first, from across the room, enough to draw you in, but, the more you look, blessedly, the more there was to see, and you found yourself lingering, lingering, uncaring for the rest of the gallery, only devoted to this one, desperate, longing, hungry to find more and more, to memorize every detail, confident you would neither be disappointed nor exhausted in the search.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the blonde barista thought back to the question the dark-haired woman had asked, the answer the blonde had given, and the response Lena had offered. And Kara decided there were some things worth building up the courage for, and that woman was definitely one of them, and if the opportunity ever presented itself, Kara promised she would be brave enough.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Irish coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The days rolled on, and it was getting so that Kara could almost forget everything going on outside the coffeeshop, especially when everything going inside revolved around Lena. For Kara, at least. By reality is a strong force, and it wasn’t long before even the bubbly blonde’s optimism began to be effected. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was probably when Alex came back to the cafe one afternoon after meeting with the lawyers, put on her apron and immediately set to work without a word to Nia or Kara, despite both of them knowing about the meeting and as eager as any to hear how it went. The redhead’s silence was answer enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a groundswell of community support, demonstrations, op-eds even. Clark’s article had been turned into a series, James’ pictures flawless, showcasing the inviting warmth of the shop and the vibrant place it held in downtown. Yet it all seemed like a sponge against the tide. Luthors were not a small problem, and they weren’t going. While Argo had weathered it share of storms, L-Corp had been responsible for more than a few and had more than the connections and money necessary to make this a category 5. Ready to carve a swathe right through downtown. The word on the street was they had enticed some major backing for their realty project, the kind that also had connections, especially with local government. There was a city council meeting in a few weeks that looked to be the deciding factor. Things were still up-in-the-air. The community was behind them and there was a sizable petition to preserve downtown. But only time would tell.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Until then, they brewed the coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Lena kept buying. When she did, Kara would engage her in the light, but warm, conversation that had become as much apart of the daily order as whatever was on drip. Lately, though, the dark-haired woman had been putting in longer hours. Her orders of double shots, and the occasional triple, had increased as well. At her table, she sat, eyes locked on her screen, brow furrowed in intense concentration. Kara figured whatever project she was on at her work must be heating up. Naturally, the blonde took it upon herself to see that the brunette’s mug was always kept topped off, and, when she invariably forgot to eat, a muffin or danish magically appeared within arm’s reach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was one night, towards closing, about a week after the lawyers meeting. Alex had cut out early, at her sister’s insistence. Seriously, Kara practically had to shove her out the door. The redhead had been obsessing over the various initiatives to save downtown, growing more and more sullen as the size of the obstacle in their way became apparent, until finally Nia and Kara collectively put their foot down and ordered the woman to bed. Thus the two of them were left to lock up, the shop deserted. Save for one person at a corner table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Late night?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” Lena said as she looked up suddenly with surprise. The woman sighed and rubbed her eyes, having spent hours with them glued to the screen. She looked around and finally seemed to notice the lobby. “You could say that.” She gave the shop another once-over. “You’re closing,” she said in realization. She turned back to the blonde. “I’m so sorry. I should pack up.” She began to gather her things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s okay,” Kara quickly insisted. “We’ve still got some time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked back at her, seriously. “I’d hate to be one of those customers that makes it harder for you to get home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not. I promise,” the blonde replied with a laugh. She waved at the lobby. “We’re practically done. Nia’s taking out the trash, and there’s only a bit left to clean up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena sighed again. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Besides,” Kara went on. “I don’t have far to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” The raven-haired woman asked with a raised of an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, I live upstairs,” the barista replied, pointing towards the ceiling. “Alex and I do, I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dark-haired woman looked back at her, and Kara nearly did a double take. She looked terribly worried for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You… You live in this building?” Lena asked, even more seriously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kara said, matter-of-factly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked away, hand over her mouth. She seemed overcome. She stared at the laptop before closing it with a forceful snap.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. It almost seemed to come out accidentally.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara’s brow knitted in thought, wondering what it could be that had the woman so worried, desperate, in the moment, to figure it out so she could fix it for her, if at all possible. She landed on the only thing that seemed to make sense. Ironically, on the one thing that was more true than she could have guessed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you mean about the L-Corp stuff?” She asked, and Lena’s eyes shot to hers. Kara waved the air as if she could nonchalantly brush it all away like lint. “Oh, that’s nothing. Argo’s not going anywhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde’s confidence, however, did not seem to assuage whatever emotion was painted all over the dark-haired woman’s face. Lena gulped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You seem pretty sure,” she said haltingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara smiled. “This place has been through worse.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yet the woman at the table seemed unconvinced. Kara watched a tear roll down her cheek. The blonde nearly dropped the broom she was holding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” she said quickly. Her hand landed on Lena’s shoulder softly. “It’s okay, really.” Blue eyes stared until green eyes finally looked back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena sniffed. Finally seeming to notice the state of her face, she schooled her features and wiped a quick hand across her cheek. She looked down at the blonde’s hand on her shoulder, at the warm, selfless gesture, and she couldn’t seem to stop herself from laying her own hand against it. Kara’s smile widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I, uh…” Lena started, the last trace of emotion still evident in her voice. “I should go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara rubbed her shoulder gently. “If you need to stay for a minute-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Lena replied quickly. She smiled, or tried to. “I’m fine. Thank you.” She sighed again, deeply. “Thank you for everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For you,” the blonde assured her. “Any time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That seemed to land with Lena, but not as well as Kara hoped, or not as softly. The dark-haired woman nodded again and began to pack up her things. Kara walked her to the door. The bell jingled as it opened onto the brisk night air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need me to walk you to the subway?” Kara asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once more, the dark-haired woman seemed caught by the offer, by the blonde’s obvious kindness. She shook her head. She turned to the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Kara added as something rose in her chest. Something you might call courage. Lena turned back to her as she stepped closer. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wish I had your confidence,” the woman replied, honestly, with a shake of her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara only smiled. It was then she noticed her hand, resting on the woman’s side, just above her waist, the soft, silk of her shirt under her fingers, the warmth of her ribs in her palm. Kara wondered if she would ever wash the hand again, let alone remove it from where it had found itself. She looked up into green eyes, deep, Mediterranean-tinted pools. Suddenly the distance between them felt like too much and like nothing at all, and Kara found herself drifting ever closer, locked with those green orbs while searching that perfect face for the slightest sign, any hint that the gravity pulling the blonde was not also felt by the brunette. It seemed to be as she saw the dark-haired own eyes shoot down to Kara’s mouth then back up to her eyes. Soon, they were inches apart. Kara heard, and felt, so close, the tell-tale gasp of parted lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, suddenly, Lena pulled back. She visibly gulped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head again, fiercely this time, looking away. “I should go.” She turned to the street, breaking the contact with Kara, even as the blonde’s hand threatened to follow her out. The dark-haired woman stopped and glanced back. “Sorry for keeping you,” she said before walking out into the night.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hot chocolate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Nia asked in disbelief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the next morning, and Kara had just finished recounting, more or less, the events of the previous night, including the oh-so-close-and-yet-so-far moment that still lingered on her very much un-kissed lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean ‘she just left’?” The younger barista asked, expressing her own aggravation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She just left,” Kara repeated with a shrug as she stared into space and sighed for the thousandth time, it seemed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you didn’t close the deal?” Nia said, still not accepting the reality of the situation, it seemed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara shook her head and sighed again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the hell, Kara?” The brunette barista exclaimed, garnering a stern look from her red-haired manager, who was just as much preoccupied with this conversation as anyone. “You’re telling me I pretended to take out the trash for half-an-hour for nothing?!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s really nice to know you both take closing so seriously when I’m not around,” Alex commented.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nia rolled her eyes but still managed to glare at the blonde. Kara just sighed again. With some prodding, thought, a lot of prodding actually, literal prodding at one point, Alex managed to get her employees to actually, you know, employ themselves at the job they were being paid for. Argo Coffee’s future may be as unknown as whatever the hell was going on with her sister and the dark-haired regular, but they would continue serving the public like they always had. Still, every single Argo employee, manager included, couldn’t help but stop what they were doing the moment a certain customer walked in the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena stepped up to the counter, either unaware or very likely choosing not to question why  three pairs of eyes were staring at her. She simply ordered and found her usual table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stared. She stared and stared. And thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The obvious question was: what the hell had happened? The questions that followed that one were numerous. Had what happened, or almost happened, not happened for a particular reason? Had she read this wrong? Okay, granted, she had the tendency to read things wrong, or not read things at all. But, come on, she’d spent weeks convincing herself there was absolutely nothing from the tall dark woman’s end, then convincing herself there was and reading every possible nuance she could out of their interactions. Then there had been that whole thing with Sam, and Alex had seemed convinced. Nia, too, but Nia would be convinced of anything because she thought it was cute. And they would be cute, dammit! So what the hell?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stared some more, vaguely aware that drinks were being ordered and she was making, possibly through sheer muscle memory because her brain was decidedly pre-occupied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The obvious question now was: should she say something? Should she even ask? Had she read the situation wrong? Did Lena think she about to sneeze and that’s why she had to run off into the night? Should she apologize? Did Lena want her to apologize? Was there anything to apologize for? Would apologizing only make it even more painfully obvious why what happened, or almost did, was so important to Kara? Had it been important to Lena? What was she even supposed to say? “Sorry I tried to kiss you, unless you didn’t think I was, in which case, never mind, Haha! What can I get you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara continued to stare, back to where she had started on this journey, obsessed yet refusing to approach the tall dark woman at the table in the corner. As the day progressed, she watched Lena work steadily, like she always did, focused almost inhumanly so. Yet there was something else. It was written, in small ways, all over the woman’s face. Yet it seemed to grow. She would sigh and look away, then be right back at her laptop, even more determined, only to sigh again an hour, a minute later. Whatever she was working on, it really seemed to be sapping the very life from her. Her shoulders drooped, her back hunched, little by little. Kara watched, throughout the day, as the dark-haired woman slowly deflated. Finally, after dusk, near closing again, Lena’s head rested in her hands, and the blonde knew she couldn’t stand it any longer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” the blonde said, holding a wide mug in her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked up, momentarily startled out of her depressed state. There was the briefest passing of a smile, then she deflated again. The smile that returned was polite but wan and barely there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that?” The woman asked after looking the barista up and down, landing on the thing that seemed most central to the situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s for you,” Kara replied matter-of-factly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Lena said. Her eyes connected with the blonde’s own deep blues. “But what is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hot chocolate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena stared at the mug, eyes wide. “The world famous?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara giggled and nodded. “The very same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena stared at the mug some more. She didn’t take it. Finally, bold now, she thought, for all the right reasons, Kara reached out and took the woman’s hand. Lena seemed just as surprised by the gesture as Kara might have been. The blonde drew the hand to the mug, pressing it against the warmth, letting it seep into her skin. Lena’s other hand appeared to cradle it, quite without her thinking, and Kara released it to her grasp.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena inhaled reflexively. Kara watched with delight as the warm vapors filled her sinuses and the woman got the most unmistakable look on her face. There was a reason the cocoa recipe was world-famous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena stared down at the mug for a whole minute. “I don’t think I’ve had hot chocolate since I was a child.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The barista gaped. “Well, all the more reason you should drink this right now,” she said, quite serious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Lena actually smiled, genuinely. She continued to cradle the mug, holding it up to take another whiff. “What is that?” She had to ask as she did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah,” Kara said as she took the chair opposite Lena, another bold move, but cocoa called for it. “That would be a secret blend of milk and dark chocolate, a bit of cream, a dash of cinnamon-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena’s smile widened at that. “Your signature,” she said and Kara blushed over her whole body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But,” the blonde cleared her throat a moment later. “The real kicker…” She drummed her fingers across the table. “French lavender.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena raised and eyebrow. “I would never have thought to put those together,” she commented as she took another deep inhale.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, that’s why you’re the business mogul and I’m the barista,” Kara said with a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And to what do I owe this pleasure?” Lena asked. She tapped the mug. “I was told this was a trade secret.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara only shrugged. “You looked like you could use a pick-me-up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the comment seemed to deflate Lena again. She shook her head and took another whiff. It seemed to be working. Kara motioned to the cup. Lena complied, finally raising the mug to her lips and taking a slow, deep draw.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she set it down, Kara couldn’t help but chuckle at the line of whipped cream lining the woman’s top lip. She stopped laughing when she saw the woman’s face. Lena’s eyes stared into the middle distance. They looked lined with tears.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, you hate it,” Kara sighed. She looked down at the offending mug. “Maybe I overdid it with the cinnamon. I thought it would balance with the lavender, but-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was stopped, mid-apology, when a hand landed on her own. She looked down at the hand and followed it up to the face, the eyes, of the dark-haired woman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, Kara,” Lena replied immediately. “It’s delicious.” She looked down at the mug and sighed heavily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara, meanwhile, was looking down at their hands. Lena’s were soft yet strong, just like she had imagined they would be, and the way her thumb curled ever so slightly under the blonde’s palm was so thoughtful, so comforting. She couldn’t help but let her own hand turn over to grip the dark-haired woman’s. When she did, when her fingers grazed lightly over Lena’s wrist and their palms settled warmly against one another, pure bliss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” Lena added with another deep inhale.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara looked up into those eyes again. So very green. “Well, I hate to think what kind of life you must have lived if a cup of cocoa is the highlight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena shook her head. “It’s not just a cup of cocoa, Kara,” she said seriously. She stared back at Kara’s eyes. So very blue. “I doubt you’ve ever made ‘just a cup of cocoa.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, she had her there. Kara couldn’t help but smile, even as the woman across from her looked like she might cry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything you do makes everyone around you feel so good,” Lena went on, her eyes cast down to the table, to their hands. “And you never ask for anything back; you just do it. No wonder people like you so much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara gulped, the feeling, the situation, being almost too real. Her, here, with her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not true,” Kara said, for something to say. It was strange, being complemented by the dark-haired woman, especially in this somber, sad way. “Ask Alex, she can give you plenty of examples of infuriating things I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dark-haired woman let a smirk play against her lips for a moment before her mouth dropped back into that sigh. “You are truly a good person, Kara Danvers.” She looked down at the mug. “You make the world just a bit warmer.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it was meant, Kara could tell. It was strange, yet still, she knew exactly what she would say back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So do you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena immediately shook her head. “You don’t know me.” And her hand drew away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara grabbed it before it got too far. Green eyes shot to hers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I do,” she said. “You come in here every day, and you work hard, and I haven’t once seen you surf social media. You tip well and you’re nice to Nia and you never complain when your order takes a little longer. You don’t bother the other customers. You don’t turn your nose up when a homeless person comes in for their free muffin. You watch the little kids with their parents, and, when they get so excited to order, you always smile.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara breathed finally. The whole thing had been unleashed in one breath, and, now that she was forced to stop, there was what felt like the longest of pauses while she stared at the woman across the table, whose hand was clasped desperately between her own.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And whenever we brew an Irish tea, you order it,” she added, because she had to. “And you always get so thoughtful when you drink it. You stare out the window, and you don’t get a lot of work done, but, honestly, you look so content and peaceful that, well, I’ve been forcing Alex to feature it on the menu more often.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Kara went silent. She stared. She wondered if she should let the woman’s hand go. She started to wonder if she hadn’t just given way too much away. And, the more the woman across from her stared back in silence, the more she started to question every decision she had ever made.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You see all that?” Lena finally asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara tried to breathe and found she couldn’t. In the end, she could nod and shyly whisper, “I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She sat back. Slowly, hesitantly, she let Lena’s hand slip from her own. The dark-haired woman gradually drug it back to her side of the table, but there was the slightest hesitancy as well from her. She gripped the mug again and cast her eyes down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She took a sip and sighed. The words, the very weight of them, hung in the air. She seemed to come to terms with something. “Luthor,” she said at last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Kara replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My name is Lena Luthor,” the woman added. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stared. Kara gaped. “What?” She asked again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena Luthor,” the tall dark woman repeated. “My family owns L-Corp, the ones who are trying to tear this place down.” It was obvious, but it wasn’t delivered condescendingly. It was as if she herself was trying to build an argument against her own person, trying to remind the blonde exactly how much she didn’t know about her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara could only look on in silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The ones who are trying to destroy everything you care about,” Lena barreled on, tears in her voice, despite the silence, or maybe because of it. “The ones who are trying to put you out on the street. The ones…” And she stopped, no longer able to continue, no longer able to hammer nails in the coffin of whatever good things the barista must have thought of her. Once. Now no more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Kara just stared, unable to form a single word. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” was all she could say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena nodded at this. What more needed to be said? The woman allowed herself one last sip of cocoa, out of guilt. She smiled brittlely and said, with a sob, “It really is good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she left, and Kara could only watch her go.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>French roast.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So, what did you say?" Nia asked the next morning after Kara was done, after the young barista’s constant nagging, with many long, sigh-filled pauses, recounting all that had happened the evening before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"'Oh,'" Kara replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nia waited. "And?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"'Oh'? That's it?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kara!" the young woman objected, apoplectic, snapping a towel across her coworker’s arm. The blonde seemed to barely feel it, so lost in her own grief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What was she supposed to say?" Alex objected, long since throwing off any semblance of not being involved in this event, especially once the L-word had made an appearance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know!" Nia replied, throwing her hands up. "But she could say SOMETHING. The woman's baring her soul, and she just stares?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She admitted she’s working fo the company that wants to level this place, Nia,” Alex pointed out,</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So?” Nia shot back. Her manager, and primary employer, gave her a look. “Yeah, I know, they’re all evil, but she’s been nothing but nice, and Kara’s right, she tips REALLY well!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, she comes in here and guilt buys the coffee, so what?” Alex replied, though it was clear from her expression that she hated herself, just a little, for saying it. Still, someone had to recognize the reality of the situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, maybe she can help us!” Nia said urgently. “In any case, she at least deserves the benefit of the doubt.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex's mouth opened, but Kara beat her to a reply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I should have said she was beautiful," she sighed, deeply, gaze still off in space, but not really. Her eyes were transfixed on one table in the corner, now empty. "That when she comes in, it's the highlight of my day. That she makes my world brighter. That it doesn't matter what her last name is because I'm desperately in love with her, and all I wanted to do last night was wipe the sadness off her lips with mine." She sighed again. She glanced down "And sometimes I imagine her staying after closing and taking me right here on this counter."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex, hand currently leaned against said counter, yanked her arm back as if stung. "Oh god, Kara! This is a work space!"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The conversation was quickly brought to a halt when Nia cleared her throat. Both women turned and saw the third nodding her head towards the door and who had just stepped through it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara caught Lena's eyes immediately. The green looked sad, before they quickly looked away. She was standing half-in, half-out of the doorway, as if she couldn’t decide what to do. If she could come in. If she should. Finally, a customer behind her forced her out of her hesitation. She allowed them to pass, then stepped inside</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dark-haired woman swept a lock of hair behind her ears and shyly approached the counter. Kara could only look at her. Alex stared at Kara. Nia looked between the both of them before huffing in frustration and stepping to the register herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hi! What can I get you today?" the young woman asked brightly with a full and sincere smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena returned a half-smile. "Just a regular black of whatever's fresh, please," she said, eyes darting to Kara before looking away once more. She paid, even tipped, then found her way to her normal table, Kara watching her all the while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nia looked to Alex who looked to Kara, who was still staring at Lena. The redhead sighed and turned to start on the drink. A minute later, she handed a full mug over to Nia, who stepped immediately in front of Kara and held it out. The blonde, finally pulled away from her staring, looked down at the cup. Nia held the saucer and mug more firmly, insistently. Kara finally took it. Nia then quickly pointed to its recipient with a stern look to the blonde.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Here you go," Kara said quietly as she set the mug and saucer on the table in front of the dark-haired woman.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena's eyes connected with hers. She looked away again before replying, equally quiet, "Thank you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara stared for another moment. Lena tried to go back to her work, or tried to look like she was about to. Neither could deny the thoughts filling their heads, of the conversation before, and a thousand other, better ones, that might have taken its place. The blonde finally turned away, noting Nia's frantic flailing behind the counter as Alex attempted to restrain her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena looked up suddenly. She stared into the bluest eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kara, why would you be sorry?" the dark-haired woman asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You were upset," the blonde sighed. "I was trying to make you feel better, and then I just blew it."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Green eyes looked back, so sad. Lena shook her head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Kara, you do not owe me an apology," she insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I do," said the blonde. She took the opposite seat, heedless of the rest of the coffee shop now. "I don't care who you are." Kara's eyes quickly grew wide. "I mean, no, that's wrong. What I mean is..." She sighed. "I already know who you are. The only new information was your last name, and that's a stupid reason to hate somebody."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she looked back up, the green eyes shone but not all from sadness. There was a long pause while the dark-haired woman considered her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There's not a lot of people who would say that about a Luthor," Lena finally spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, maybe that's why I'm the barista," Kara replied with a short laugh. "And you're the business mogul." She smiled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena smiled back. She looked down at the mug, for somewhere else to look. She cradled the heat between her hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You wondered what kind of work I did,” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara shrugged. “Only because I wanted a reason to talk to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The caught the green eyes’ attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The mysterious woman in the table by the window,” the blonde went, brave beyond she could tell why. “Who wouldn’t want to get to know her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes met, locked, and the world, and all the last names it held, seemed to drop away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did wonder why my coffee always seemed to end up with extra ingredients in it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara blushed. “I’m a really good barista,” she said with conviction, and a chuckle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Lena laughed, too, that lilting, intoxicating laugh. She finally lifted the mug to her lips. When she brought it away, Kara watched that telltale licking of her lips, and, oh god, her lips. Lena's smile widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What?" Kara asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dark-haired woman held up the mug. "Cinnamon."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara smiled back, but her eyes darted to the counter where her sister was noticeably not making eye contact.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know about the downtown deal,” Lena said after a minute and another bracing sip. “Not at first.” She sighed. “I work in R-and-D for L-Corp. My degree’s in engineering. I never wanted anything to do with the company or any of the other…” She waved a hand in the air. “‘Business’ that my family got up to.” And Kara could tell Lena knew all the things that stood behind ‘business’ and held little more than contempt for most of them. “But mother’s always been insistent.” She shrugged.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara wanted to hold her hand. More than that, Kara wanted to wipe any excuse the woman thought she needed to make right off her lips. She wanted to do a lot more with her lips, of course, but she didn’t. It felt like this needed to be said. Like Lena needed to say it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was always looking for any excuse not to work in the office,” the tall dark woman went on. She motioned to the shop with a laugh. “You really do have good wifi here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yea, Nia’s boyfriend works for a tech company,” Kara replied. “They hooked us up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena nodded and held up the mug. “And fantastic coffee.” She set it down again and breathed. “My brother, Lex, put together this new real estate venture. His way of showing mother he has what it takes to lead the company. It’s…” And she waved that away. “Family drama. Anyway, when I found out what he wanted to do to downtown, to this place, I had to do something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara’s eyes went wide with interest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s why I brought Sam in,” Lena continued. “I was hoping she could find some legal, financial means to preserve Argo, downtown.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did she?” Kara asked, almost hating herself for wanting to know, for interrupting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena could only look away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think…” Kara said after a moment’s thought. “Could you convince your family-?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the dark-haired woman shook her head before the question was complete. “There is no talking Lex out of anything, especially with the kind of money that’s involved here, and mother is not concerned about ‘preservation’, trust me.” She looked down again. “I’m so sorry, Kara.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But that feeling, that soul deep desire to comfort the woman across from her, drove the blonde past her own grief for the moment. “No,” she said, seriously. “You didn’t do anything wrong, and, you know, Argo has lasted this long.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kara…” Lena tried. She caught the look off the barista’s face, and she, too, seemed to soften at it and, simultaneously, seemed to grow stronger as well. Her hand moved to cover Kara’s. The blonde exhaled at the soft, warm touch. “I promise you, if there’s anything I can do, I will do it. But…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Kara believed her. She really did. More than that, Kara realized exactly how much she liked this woman. She gripped her hand, covering it with both of her own. She held it tight. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were other questions, other words. There were so many other things that Kara wanted to say in this moment, things that didn’t involve last names. There were so many things she wanted to give the dark-haired woman, things so much more important than a coffeeshop, so much less complicated. But she didn’t. Life, for the moment, was too big. She could only pray it would get smaller, whatever happened, so she would have a chance to tell Lena exactly what she meant to her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were no words, not for this moment. Only the promise of maybe and the answer that, whatever happens, it wouldn’t change what was right here. The warmth shared over a cup of coffee.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should go,” Lena said, at last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t have to,” Kara insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.” Lena nodded. “But I should.” She looked down again at their hands. “There’s work to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nodded and slowly, reluctantly, let her hands slip away, as the dark-haired woman gathered up her things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ll come back, right?” The blonde asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tall dark paused in the doorway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara smiled expectantly. “Your table won’t be the same without you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena managed a smile back. “Keep it open for me.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The table stayed open, even as the days progressed, and the inevitable became more and more and more real.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex was still hard at work, pounding the pavement, and every legal and more avenue she had at her disposal to block or otherwise to delay the ever encroaching Luthor takeover. Yet, even as she campaigned tirelessly, the employees of Argo Coffee couldn’t help but wonder, with every cup they poured, if it wouldn’t be the last cup served, the last muffing they handed out, the last happy face they would be responsible for. And for one blonde haired, blue eyed barista, as she stared at that one table that was still open, she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d already served the last cup of coffee to that one person who mattered so much more and why hadn’t she told her how much when she had the chance?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Soon enough, though, it might not matter. There was one, last city council meeting, wherein the final purchases would be approved, including the building that currently housed Argo Coffee, not to mention the Danvers sisters apartment. There was promise to be a community presence there in opposition, and hope was very much in the air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All for nought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex came back looking as dejected as Kara had ever seen her. The blonde didn’t ask, didn’t say a word, just served her beloved sister a cup of coffee, like she would anyone, like she did everyone, and sat with her in their shared grief.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Argo Coffee had proudly brewed in this part of National City for nearly 40 years. No more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The response from the community was heart-warming. Customers came in by the dozens that last week, many with years of stories and memories. More than a few familiar faces appeared, including many of the homeless population who counted Argo a haven. It was nice, to say the least. Kara, Nia, and Alex each taking shifts to go into the back room for no other reason than to cry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So it was, the last day before the purchase of the building was finalized, and they would all be looking for new jobs, some new places to live, and new avenues where life might take them. Alex closed up shop early, inviting some dear friends to share a cup, and, naturally, eat the remainder of their bakery back stock.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you talked to your mom?” James asked as the afternoon wore on.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex sighed. “Yeah,” she said with a nod. “She thought about coming but decided she’d rather remember the place how it used to be, you know?” The redhead looked around the shop, remembering a bit herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lot of history in this place,” Lois observed, and the group wholeheartedly, if sadly, agreed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A neighborhood institution, gone the way of progress. A tale as old as time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you think you’ll do now?” Clark asked. It was the question every had on their mind; it just took one person to finally say it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex laughed dryly. “You mean besides moving back in with Mom?” She sighed again, then just shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s finally time to go back to school, finish up that degree I always promised Dad I would get.” That brought another deep sigh of loss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve got plenty of business experience,” Lois offered, tossing a hand to their surroundings. “You did great things with this place. I’m sure someone would pay good money for your acumen.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thanks, Lois,” Alex replied. “But I think I’ll always be independent business at heart. Corporate’s just not my thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, maybe Kara can finally put that communications degree to good use,” Lois added, shifting to the other Danvers sister, who had been noticeably quiet this whole time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara, of course, had been staring at the door. She had promised she’d come back. If she ever was going to, it would be today. It would have to be today.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lois elbowed the blonde playfully, shifting her attention away from the door suddenly. “Clark and I would be happy to put in a good word for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She smiled, shyly, and nodded at this. “I’ll, uh… I’ll think about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door chimed. Kara’s head spun instantly to it, seeing a recognizable figure step through. Sadly, it was the wrong tall dark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam,” Alex said with a noticeable glimmer in her eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, babe,” the statuesque brunette replied. “Sorry I’m late.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s fine,” the redhead insisted, stepping up to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Can I get you something?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In a minute,” Sam said, with a glance at Kara. “I actually have something for you.” She reached into her bag and produced a file folder, which she handed, almost professionally, to the redhead. Alex gave her a curious look. Sam only motioned for her to open it. She did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex stared. She stared and stared in complete silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Babe, what am I looking at?” She finally had to ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does it look like?” The brunette asked with a knowing smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It looks like a deed,” Alex replied, warily, as if she wasn’t sure even though it was staring her in the face. “It looks like the deed to this building.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That caught everyone’s attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Nia asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara was up and staring over her sister’s shoulder in a heartbeat. She, too, could clearly see the official document, with the address of the very spot they were standing on. The Danvers sisters stared at the paper, then, simultaneously, looked up at the brunette.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How…?” Alex asked, unable to form the complete question.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam smiled, her eyes shifting to Kara’s. “Lena,” she said, and the blonde felt her heart beat louder than it ever had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lena?” Alex asked. “She bought the building?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nodded, then waggled her head. “Sort of,” she said. “She tried everything she could to block the sale, even trying to convince her mother not to go along with Lex’s plan, and, trust me, if you knew Lillian Luthor, you’d sooner make a deal with the devil than try and negotiate with that woman. In the end, L-Corp wouldn’t budge, so Lena outbid them herself. Well, technically the shell corporation she set up did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She set up a shell corporation?” Nia exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Sam went on. She looked back at Kara. “That’s why she hasn’t been around lately. I’ve been working with her to fast-track the paperwork through and liquidate her trust fund so she could have the capital to make the purchase.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex looked down at the folder in her hands. “That still doesn’t explain how I’m holding the deed to this building.” She shook her head. “Why didn’t Luthor just outbid her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, about that,” Sam laughed. She motioned to the store. “The shell corporation Lena set up was a 501c3. Turns out all the charitable work Argo does is enough to qualify the purchase of this building as a philanthropic acquisition. The city charter requires primary consideration be given to such bids. That’s how she was able to steal your building out from under Lex’s nose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Luthor can’t be too happy about that,” Clark wondered aloud. “What do you think that means for the rest of the redevelopment plan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, Lex’s plan required purchase of a large, complete section of downtown,” Sam answered. “Without that, most of his investors backed out. The deal’s pretty much dead.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A whoop went up from James, echoed, louder, by Nia. Sam stepped towards Alex.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now, there’s a lot of financial stuff to consider with this,” she said, motioning to the papers. “Lena named you to the board for the 501c3.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” Alex asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam nodded. “I can help you with all of it, of course, but the most important thing is that-“</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re back?” Alex completed the thought for her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re back,” Kara said in awe.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nia, meanwhile, was hopping up and down. “We’re back!” She exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a brief hum of surprise from the tall brunette as a redheaded barista leapt at her, lips first. Alex wrapped the woman up in a fierce hug, file clutched securely in one hand. She broke the kiss a moment later, breathless.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” she said quickly. “I’m going to do that later, for much less self-serving reasons, but I just had to do that right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No need to apologize,” Sam replied with a stupidly huge grin on her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alex spun to Kara, an equally huge grin on her face. Kara returned it. The manager of Argo Coffee then turned and stomped towards the door. She flipped the sign to OPEN with gusto before throwing the door open and announcing to downtown National City, “We’re back, bitches!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde watched this all in speechless wonder. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to Sam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She wanted to be here,” the woman said softly. “But she’s currently being chewed out by her mother. Trust me, that could take all night.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nodded. Too many thoughts rushed through her head for words. So many things she wanted to say, but the person she desperately wanted to say them to wasn’t there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you see her,” the blonde finally replied. She glanced towards the front of the store, towards a corner of the shop. “Tell her, her table’s always open.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will,” Sam replied.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Tall blonde.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Social media’s a helluva thing. Within an hour, thanks to vigorous tweeting by Nia, the news of Argo Coffee’s continued existence was more than viral. A swarm of very happy customers soon descended on the building, especially after the promise of half-off drinks in celebration.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was nearly to closing when the rush finally settled, and the employees of Argo leaned against the bar, exhausted but unconscionably happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door chimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The trio of baristas turned as one as a very recognizable face entered the building. Nia cheered immediately and joined Alex in a round of applause. It was enough to make Lena pause in the doorway. She didn’t make it three more steps before Nia had rushed around the bar to practically tackle her in a hug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if it isn’t the woman of the hour,” the redhead manager replied warmly once her employee had let the woman go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Lena said shyly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, thank you,” Alex replied, most seriously. “We owe you everything. It goes without saying, but, as long as Argo Coffee is brewing, you, lady, drink for free.” She spread her arms out. “What can we get you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A tall blonde.” The reply was immediate, so much so that it was clear from the face she made that not only was the subtext very clear but Lena was just as surprised it had come out of her mouth. All eyes quickly darted to the blonde barista, Alex with a look of curiosity, Nia with a stupid grin on her face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know…” the elder Danvers sister said after a moment. “I think I’ll start closing up, in the back.” She glanced at the brunette barista. “Nia?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, right,” Nia said suddenly. “Trash. So much trash. All the trash.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both quickly exited, leaving the two woman, alone. Kara crossed around the bar, stepping gingerly towards the dark-haired woman. They stared at one another in silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam told me… She mentioned your mom.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena nodded. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled that I went behind her back, especially that I acted against the interests of the company, so it’s pretty understandable she would fire me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She fired you?!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, she wasn’t about to promote me,” Lena said with a laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara looked on with worry. “Are you…? Are you going to be okay?” She looked around at the shop. “Do you need a job?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lena laughed again and shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think I’d be very good behind the counter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara looked even more worried, thinking of all the woman had sacrificed for them. “Lena, you… I’m so sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kara,” the woman replied, and it was like the blonde had never heard her name spoke aloud before, that’s how it sounded now coming out of her mouth. “I have a degree and a lot of experience. I will have no problem finding work.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” the barista said with relief. She smiled back at Lena. “I hope it’s somewhere that’s okay with you working remotely.” She gestured towards a particular corner of the store. “Your table hasn’t felt the same without you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Lena smiled. She bit her lip. “I want you to know,” she said after a deep breath. “I didn’t do it because I liked you.” A look of shock shot across her face. “Wait, no, I mean, I didn’t do it for you. Well, I did, but I didn’t- Hold on.” She took another deep breath. “What I’m trying to say is, I didn’t do it so you would like me. I did it because it was the right thing to do, because this place means so much to so many people.” She looked away for a moment. “But I only knew that, I only knew it was the right thing to do because of you.” Green eyes connected with blue. “Because I met you, because I know you, because you’ve been nothing but kind to me, and because I like you, a lot.” She shook her head finally. “I don’t know what sort of person that makes me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara took a step nearer. To think, she had started with so many questions, so much doubt and hesitation, all to come to this place, where there wasn’t a doubt in her mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think that makes you any more or less the sort of person than you already are,” she said. “Which is a kind and generous soul, someone who makes the world brighter, even if she can’t see it, someone who I like, a whole lot.” She took another step.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You like me?” Lena asked, green eyes shining.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kara said. “And I would still like you even if you hadn’t saved the store.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Lena said, taking a step nearer herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Kara replied. They were close now, so very close. “But I’m really glad you did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So am I,” said the dark-haired woman. Her mouth split into a grin. She couldn’t help but chuckle. “You have really good wifi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara laughed too, though her eyes stayed fixed on the woman’s face, on the woman’s lips. “But better coffee,” she said, snaking an arm around the woman’s waist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Lena agreed, her voice a throaty whisper, her own eyes drifting down as she let herself be pulled flush against the blonde. “Much better.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no pull back this time and no hesitation. Just lips. Just a kiss that took both women’s breath away. The emptying and filling of long-held passion and desire finally realized. When they broke, there was a breath, and then lips met again. And again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they finally broke away fully, Kara pressing her forehead to Lena’s, the blonde suddenly started laughing again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said, ‘tall blonde,’” she said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Lena replied curiously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When you first came in, before I knew your name,” the barista went on. “I called you ‘tall dark.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nodded. They laughed deeply and hugged each other deeper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not to change the subject,” Lena said after a moment. Their bodies were still flush as she draped her arms around the blonde’s neck and twirled a finger in golden curls. “Because I’m really interested in getting back to what we’re doing, but was your sister serious about drinking for free?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nodded. “Oh, definitely.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Lena replied. A wicked smile spread across her lips. “That wouldn’t happen to include baked goods, too, would it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Kara said but smiled. “Those you’ll get for free as part of the girlfriend package.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” the dark-haired woman said. “Does that come with any other perks?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Kara nodded her vigorous assent, and they went back to kissing. Though she would comment on it later, in the moment, Lena didn’t really wonder at how the blonde’s lips tasted like cinnamon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a lot of character in a coffee order, and once you find the one that perfectly fits you, well, you know what you’ll be drinking the rest of your life.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks to the moderators for making this happen, and all the other writers and artists for their amazing works.<br/>And thank YOU so much for the kudos and comments!<br/>Let's hang out on social media<br/>Twitter: @douglas_amongus<br/>Instagram: @douglas_amongus<br/>Tumblr: douglasamongus</p></blockquote><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26741422">The Perfect Coffee (Art)</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnight_echoes/pseuds/midnight_echoes">midnight_echoes</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
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